


A Very Good Holiday

by afteriwake



Series: All Of Time And Space [18]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is not his favorite time of year, but this year is different. This year he’s not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Good Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> This is seriously the fic that wouldn’t stop…

Sherlock looked around Amelia’s flat. She had decorated for Christmas, something he had never done in the entire time he’d been living on his own. He wasn’t fond of the decorations, but she was, so he stayed quiet. The one thing that had caught his attention was the Christmas tree. His family had put one up until his brother had left, and then afterwards there was no point. Amelia’s was small, but he could tell that she had put a lot of thought into decorating it. He fingered ornaments obviously made by a child, and he recognized them vaguely from the tree she and her aunt had put up when Amelia was a child.

“I remember this one,” he said, looking at a felt tree with sloppy stitching. “You made this when you were ten. I remember you threw it across the room a few times as you were sewing it.”

Amy smiled, coming over with two glasses of sparkling juice. “Yup. All the ornaments I made as a child are on there. Last time I was in Leadworth Aunt Sharon gave me the whole box. We hadn’t put my decorations up in years. She wanted an _elegant_ tree.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t want them,” he said, taking the juice she handed him.

Amy shrugged. “I don’t think she really wanted to be reminded of my childhood, to be honest.”

“She wasn’t there for most of it,” Sherlock said, taking a sip of his drink.

“I know. I don’t think she wanted to raise a child, especially one as troubled as I was,” she replied. She fingered the tree lightly. “I mean, _you_ know the Doctor is real now, but back then you and everyone else believed he was a figment of my imagination. Four psychiatrists couldn’t get me to change my mind. She just wrote me off by the time you started babysitting me.”

He moved his free hand over and slipped an arm around her waist. She let go of the ornament and she moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder slightly. “Neither of us had enjoyable childhoods when we were at home,” he said.

“I had good times with you,” she replied. “But yeah, when it was just me and Aunt Sharon, it wasn’t that great. If I ever have children, I’m going to love them the way I wasn’t. They’ll never have to feel as though they’re not wanted.”

They had not talked about things like children yet, or marriage or any of that. He knew if she did end up pregnant, which could be a possibility from their first time together, she would be a good mother. She would do exactly what she said. Whether he could be a good father was another matter entirely, and one he didn’t want to think about very much, or at least not right now. “Perhaps we should change the subject,” he said quietly.

“Good idea,” she replied. She pulled away from him and knelt down in front of the tree, picking up a package. She stood up again and handed it to him. “I know it’s Christmas Eve, but Aunt Sharon always let me open a gift the night before. I think you’ll like it.”

He took the package, then went and set his drink down on the table. He had slipped all her gifts except one under the tree already, the few he had gotten her, and they were mingled in with gifts for both of them from the Doctor. He would be joining them the next evening for dinner, but tonight it was just the two of them. He opened the package and saw a red scarf in his hands. It was cashmere, and it was extremely soft. “This is very nice,” he said with a nod and a smile. He did not normally wear red, so it was different than the other ones he owned.

“I knew you’d like it,” she said with a radiant smile. She poked through the packages. “Should I open one of yours or one of the Doctor’s?”

“Mine,” he replied. He knelt down and selected one. “I know you’ve said you’ll be traveling a bit for work, so I thought this might be useful.” He stood up and handed it to her.

She stood and opened it quickly, and her eyes were wide. “You got me a Kindle!” she said with a grin.

“There’s also a gift card in there for you to buy books,” he said. She went over to him and gave him a hug, still holding onto the device. “I saw how many books you had here and thought it would be appropriate.”

“It’s wonderful,” she said as she let go. “I can’t wait to use it.” She set it down on the table, and then put her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, putting his hands on her waist. He leaned in and kissed her again, and they stayed like that until he slowly began to move them in the direction of her bedroom. They only got three steps that way before she stopped and pulled away.

“No, wait, dinner,” she said.

“Are you really hungry?” he asked.

“Yes. And I want to give you another present,” she said, moving her arms from around his neck. “Go sit on a stool while I cook.”

“What are you going to make?”

“I’m going to make you an omelet,” she said with a grin as she moved away from him and into the direction of the kitchen.

“I thought you didn’t make them well,” he said, following her.

“I’ve been practicing,” she said over her shoulder. “I bought cheese and mushrooms and red bell peppers, and I’m going to make you an omelet for dinner.”

He smiled slightly at that. He’d watched her try and make omelets for four years as a child and she had always resorted to making scrambled eggs. This would be interesting. He picked up his drink from the table and went to the stool he usually sat on and watched. She diced the vegetables, broke the eggs in a bowl and whisked them, added some milk to it, and then shredded some cheese, putting some in with the eggs and leaving the rest out. He watched as she poured the eggs into her skillet, sprinkled the diced vegetables on top of them, and waited. That had always been the hard part for her, the waiting. Finally she took her spatula and flipped the eggs over. Not long after that it finished, and she put it on a plate, sprinkled the rest of the cheese on top and presented it to him. “You actually did it,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“I’ve made omelets every morning I’ve been home until I got it right,” she said with a grin. 

He took a bite. “This is very good,” he said when he was done. “Better than mine.”

“Good,” she said. 

“Are you making one for you?” he asked.

“God no,” she said as she made a face. “I’m getting tired of eggs. I’m going to have some leftover stew. I’ll have eggs in the morning.”

“I was hoping for pancakes,” he said as he ate some more.

“I can make those for you instead,” she said with a smile. “I have fresh blueberries I paid an arm and a leg for that I can use.”

“One day you’ll continue those cooking lessons you started when you were younger, perhaps?” he asked.

“I could teach you how to cook more, after I see what you can do,” she said with a nod. 

“The lessons you gave me are the only thing that kept me from surviving solely on take-out, though I still manage to burn every grilled cheese sandwich I make,” he said.

“Glad to know I could help,” she said as she finished chuckling. She went to her refrigerator and got out a plastic container of soup and took it to the microwave. “Even after I stopped having a crush on you I always wondered how you were doing.”

“I survived well enough,” he replied. “It was hard the first year and a half until Lestrade warmed to me. It didn’t help that I was an addict at the time” He took another bite. “Those cases are always the more interesting ones. Anyway, Lestrade told me he’d cut me off if I didn’t stop using drugs, so Mycroft quietly arranged for me to enter a treatment program. I loved the thrill of solving a complicated case more than the drugs, in the end.”

“I’m glad you love what you do,” she said with a smile.

“I really should thank you, actually.”

“For what?” she asked as her soup finished.

“For telling me to go. I would have stayed there until you didn’t need a babysitter anymore if you hadn’t convinced me to go.”

“It was hard because I really wanted you to stay, but it was what you needed,” she said quietly. “When you left I got very lonely.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch more.”

“I know why you didn’t. But things worked out in the end, and that’s what matters.” She grinned slightly. “Can we change the subject again?”

“Of course,” he replied. They talked about other things as they ate, things that weren’t so depressing, and when the food was done this time it was Amy pulling him to the bedroom. After a while they were curled up next to each other, her pulled close against him. He wasn’t tired, but she was slipping into sleep. He didn’t want to leave her, though, so he held her close and thought about things until he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up early the next morning, but not too early. During the night they had pulled apart, and her hair was splayed over the pillow and she had turned to face him. He went to the nightstand on his side of the bed and slowly opened the drawer. He had stashed the most important present there when she was on the phone with her aunt the evening before. He hadn’t wrapped it, and instead looked at it. It was a cameo locket on a black background that Mrs. Hudson had encouraged him to get when he mentioned seeing it in a store. There were no pictures in it yet, but he knew she’d find one soon enough. He turned to look at her and saw her eyelids were starting to flutter open. “Good morning,” he said when they were completely open.

“Morning,” she said with a smile, stretching slightly. After a moment her eyes focused on what was dangling from his hand, and she sat up more. “What’s that?”

“A Christmas present for you,” he said, handing it to her.

She took it gently, and ran her fingers over the cameo. “It’s beautiful, Sherlock,” she breathed.

“There are no pictures in it yet,” he replied. “I wanted you to choose what you kept in it.”

“Thank you,” she said, handing it back to him and sitting up more, not caring that the blanket had slipped down the her bare waist. “Put it on me?” she asked as she turned her back to him and lifted her hair away from her neck.

He unclasped the necklace, then put it around her neck and clasped it again. She turned to look at him as she fingered the locket for a moment, then she leaned in and kissed him softly, pushing him back down onto the bed so she was on top of him. She deepened the kiss and he brought his hands up, tangling one in her hair and letting the other run up and down her back. When she pulled away to catch her breath she had a wide smile on her face. “This is the nicest piece of jewelry I’ve ever gotten.”

“Nicer than your engagement ring?” he asked, running a finger up her spine.

“Much nicer,” she replied. “I’ll only take it off for a photo shoot and when I take a shower.” Then she leaned in and kissed his neck lightly. “I just need to get a picture of us for it and then it will be perfect.” She kissed a little lower, and then further down. Just when things were about to get very interesting there was a loud knock at the front door of the flat. She lifted her head up and scowled. “I’m going to kill whoever’s at the door this early in the morning,” she grumbled.

“I’ll help,” he replied. They got out of bed and got dressed quickly as the knocking continued, and finally both of them went out to the door. 

Amy undid the lock and threw it open to see the Doctor standing there, a bag filled with even more gifts in his hands. “Hello!” he said brightly. Then he caught the look on their faces. “Is something wrong?”

Amy sighed. “No, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting you until later. _Much_ later.”

“What could you possibly be doing so early this morning other than sleeping?” he asked. Both Amy and Sherlock raised an eyebrow, and the Doctor began to blush. “ _Oh_. Right. Um…sorry. So sorry. I’ll just come back later, you two can go back and…do what you were doing. Or about to do. Or planned on…I’ll come back later.”

“You might as well stay,” Sherlock said, slightly amused at his obvious discomfort.

“Yeah,” Amy said, moving out of the way. “The moment’s been killed anyway. I’ll start making breakfast. Would you like blueberry pancakes?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. He came in, and Amy shut and locked the door behind him. “Really, I’m quite sorry. I just wanted to be here when you opened the presents.”

Amy smiled, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “We were going to wait until you got here this evening. We have gifts for you, too.” She then gestured to the bag. “You didn’t need to get more.”

“These are from River,” he said. “I took her out to go shopping yesterday for her gift and she picked up some things for both of you. It’s very hard shopping for someone who is in prison. There’s so much she’s not allowed to have.”

“Did they let her keep my perfume?” Amy asked as they made their way to the kitchen.

He nodded. “Putting it into a plastic bottle was key. She was wearing it last night. She asked for more, when you get a chance. She wore it around the guards and some of them want some for their wives, sisters and mothers.”

“I can’t possibly get more than five samples,’ Amy said, her eyes wide.

“Well, then I’ll buy it. River can just make it up to me later.”

“And I bet she’ll come up with something absolutely delightful to do for you,” Amy said with a smirk.

The Doctor blushed again. “Yes, well, not _that_ ,” he stammered. He turned to Sherlock. “Can you get her to change the subject?”

“Be nice to him,” Sherlock murmured.

“I am. But he put a damper on my morning and now I have to behave all day until we’re alone again. Which means you’re staying over again.”

“I can’t,” he said. “Mrs. Hudson asked me to help her with a project tomorrow morning. She wants an early start.”

“Perhaps I can just stay with you then,” Amy replied with a gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t see why not,” he replied, licking his lip slightly.

The Doctor looked from one of them to the other and groaned. “You’re at _that_ stage in your relationship,” he said. “Where you’d rather spend all your time together in bed, doing…things…to each other.” And he made a face at that. Amy looked at him and started laughing. Sherlock joined in, and the Doctor looked at him sharply. “Blimey. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”

“I try and make him laugh a bit every day,” Amy said with a smile as her laughter tapered into a chuckle. “I think it’s the best sound in the world.” She started pulling down the ingredients to make the pancakes.

“Your necklace is new,” the Doctor said as he turned his attention back to her.

“I just got it. I was thanking Sherlock for it when you knocked,” she said, going for her measuring cups. “I need a picture to put in it.”

“Do you have a camera?” he replied.

Amy nodded. “Yeah, I have a digital camera, and a computer and photo paper and a printer.”

“Then I’ll take a picture,” he said.

“Later,” she said with a smile. “I want to have pictures of the two of you opening gifts anyway.”

The conversation turned to other things as Amy began making the pancakes and Sherlock set about to making the coffee. One thing he had learned was where the general location of everything for coffee was in her kitchen, and he made it with ease. Soon enough there was pancakes for everyone and coffee for him and Amy. The three of them sat at her table and ate, continuing the easy conversation of earlier. When they were done the Doctor started staring longingly at the presents before Amy laughed and went to her room to get the camera.

It took them an hour to open all the gifts, and Sherlock was quite pleased with his. Amy had gotten him another cashmere scarf, this time a black and grey plaid one, monogrammed cufflinks, a book on unsolved mysteries in London, and had presented him with a handwritten certificate for a complete suit of his choice at the store he frequented. The Doctor had found out about his love of pirates and had gotten him Blackbeard’s journal, saying he’d picked it up shortly after the pirate’s death. He had also gotten him a framed treasure map to put up in his home, after assuring him the treasure had already been found. River’s gifts had been useful: new glass tubes for experiments, a device that the Doctor assured him was a pocket microscope with magnificent magnification, a new lock pick set and a copy of a paper she had published that they had chatted about, bound in a slim hardcover book. It had been so long since he had received Christmas gifts that he was nearly speechless by the time they were done.

The Doctor had taken control of the camera when he was done opening his gifts and after Amy looked at them she declared one of them to be perfect and ran to print it out. Then she took off the locket, cut the picture down to size and placed the picture in her locket. It had been a picture of her kissing Sherlock’s cheek after she opened up the French cookbook he had bought her.

After that Amelia made dinner for the three of them and soon enough dinner was ready, then eaten, and then the Doctor bid them good-bye, carrying all his gifts back to the TARDIS in the bag he’d brought except the bowtie Amy had bought him, with the stars and planets on it. He’d put that on immediately. Amy and Sherlock stood in the doorway and watched him go, then took Sherlock’s presents and loaded them into her car and made their way to 221B Baker Street. Even then they didn’t get time alone because Mrs. Hudson had gifts for them, and they spent some time with her visiting.

It seemed as though he had waited an eternity to get time alone with Amelia, but soon enough it was just the two of them in the living room, Amy sipping some hot cocoa from a mug and Sherlock finishing a song on his violin. He set it down and sat next to her. “I think this may have been my favorite Christmas ever,” she said, finishing her drink. She snuggled next to him slightly as he put an arm around her shoulders.

“I will admit I’ve usually looked at this particular holiday with distaste, but today went very well, despite the rough start.”

“About that rough start,” she said, pulling away slightly and kissing his neck. “I think I’d like to pick up where we left off this morning.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “I’d like to do that very soon.” She nipped at his neck slightly.

“Then I’d suggest we leave this room and go somewhere a little more private,” he said, moving away and standing before offering her his hand. She grinned at him and took it, and he led the way to his room. Indeed, he thought to himself, this had been a very nice Christmas, and was going to remain a good one until he went to sleep after Amelia had had her way with him. He was very thankful for that.


End file.
